


Save Me From My Nightmare

by Konekorain



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adult/Underage Relationship, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Child Abuse, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konekorain/pseuds/Konekorain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>night·mare [nahyt-mair] noun 1. a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc. Nightmares are real. Sometimes we get stuck in such terrifying situations that we feel no one will be able to save us. What happens when young Daryl Dixon finds the answer to end all of his nightmares. Will he have the courage to ask for help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Daryl Dixon slowly opened his blue eyes. Today was his first day at a new school and he was dreading every second of it. At his old school, he had a reputation. Mess with me and die. Here, he was going to have to start from scratch building up the same reputation. He slowly sat up, being careful not to jostle the large cut across his chest. He had stitched the cut up himself the night before and hoped they held. The injury was compliments of his drunk-ass father. He must have thought it was the perfect thing to kick off a new school. His father was the reason they had moved in the first place. The man was a violent person anyway, but that increased ten-fold when the bastard was drunk. He was injured so often that the teachers at his old school began to get suspicious. His father picked them up and moved before anyone decided to call the cops. Daryl hoped the man had learned his lesson and stopped hurting him so often. Getting up, Daryl walked into his bathroom to get a shower. After taking off his clothes, he stared at his reflection in the mirror while he was waiting for the water to heat up. Damn, he was ugly. His body was littered with scars of various ages. The cut from the night before was held shut by black thread, which was a stark contrast to his pale skin and the angry red surrounding the torn flesh.

After getting his shower and dressing, Daryl tiptoed down the stairs, being careful to not wake his father. He grabbed his backpack, took his house keys and left for the day. The first thing that struck Daryl as he walked out the door was how cold it was. It was the middle of October in freaking Georgia. It wasn't supposed to be cold. Daryl shuddered in his no-sleeve shirt. He could go back in for a jacket, but that would risk waking his father up. He preferred the biting cold over starting school with fresh bruises. With that thought, Daryl began walking down the street to his new school. He had only been there once, when he and his dad had to register him, but had a great sense of direction. He was confident in his ability to get pretty much anywhere after having visited once. That was one of the only things he considered good about himself. Well, that and his hunting skills. He was excited about that. He couldn't wait for this week to be over so that he could escape his house and take to the woods. Dinner over the weekend promised to be delicious.

All of Daryl's musings caused him to lose track of time and, when he raised his head, he saw the large, brick building before him. The yard was buzzing with people. This was the biggest school he had ever been to and he already felt slightly intimidated. Daryl struggled with anxiety, had his whole life, and his breathing was becoming faster and shorter. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He went through his steps and imagined his brother's voice as he slowed his breathing. 'C'mon little brother. Breathe. In ten, out ten. That's it.' His brother always helped him with his anxiety. Well, before he signed up for the army, anyway. Daryl still held a grudge against Merle for that. His older brother just up and left him with their father. The abuse he suffered was always easier to take with Merle helping to protect him. Without him, there was nothing and no one standing between him and his father. In the end, though, Daryl knew why he had done it. Hell, if he could leave, he would be gone in a second. Taking one last deep breath, Daryl hung his head and began walking towards the school. As he passed through the crowd of people, he could already hear whispers and feel stares. Regardless, he trudged on, making his way inside and to the office. Once he was in the lobby of the office, he walked up to the overly cheerful woman standing behind the counter.

"Hi! May I help you?" she asked brightly. Daryl grit his teeth and answered her back.

"Yeah. I'm new."

"Okay, what's your name?" as she spoke, she put on some fifties-style glasses, disturbingly covered in pink rhinestones.

"Daryl Dixon." The woman began to look through the files in a box that was sitting on the counter. When she found the correct file, she pulled it out with a triumphant 'Ah-ha!' Daryl rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking. Pushing a blonde curl behind her ear, the woman opened the file and pulled out a few pieces of paper and a small booklet.

"Here's your class schedule. This is the school's manual. Aaaand, here is the list of supplies you'll need for the remainder of the year." she smiled blindingly at him again. "Have a wonderful year!" Daryl grumbled as he turned and left the office. That woman was way too cheerful. He pulled out his class schedule to see where he was supposed to go first. It looked like Literature with Mr. Greene. Wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl got into his first class early. He was hoping to slip in and go undetected. There were a few students already in their desks and Daryl made a beeline for the very back of the room. He set his backpack on the floor beside his desk and made himself as comfortable as possible. As more people entered the room, he could feel their stares burning into him. Well, there went his plan of being inconspicuous. To take his mind off of the people around him, Daryl pulled out his sketch pad and began to draw. While he was sketching, he could feel a presence beside him. Daryl looked up into the soft blue eyes of a girl. She smiled gently at him.

"You're new." she stated. Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious statement. "My name is Amy." Daryl contemplated just blowing the girl off, but it seemed that she was the only one kind enough to introduce herself instead of staring and gossiping.

"Daryl." he grunted, looking back down at his paper. Amy shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do or say next. She was saved from the awkward situation, however, when the teacher walked into the room and the bell rang. She went back to her seat and sat down. Daryl looked up at the front of the room when he heard a throat clear. There was an old man, he was pretty sure was the teacher. The man had kind eyes and long, white hair that was pulled back into a pony tail. He had a full beard and glasses perched atop his nose. Daryl's blue eyes followed the man as he limped across the room to his desk. He picked up a paper and, after reading it, his eyes went directly to Daryl. Well, it seemed that, despite his age, the man was sharp as a tack. He smiled at Daryl and motioned for him to come to the front of the class. The brunette wanted nothing more than to stay right where he was, but something in the old man's eyes told him that would be a mistake. As he approached the front of the classroom, Daryl saw a glint of light that reflected off of a metal brace that was on the teacher's right leg. Well, that explained the limping.

"Hello young man. I'm Mr. Greene. Would you please introduce yourself to the class?" he asked it as a question, but it was more like a command.

"Daryl Dixon."

"Good, good. Could you tell us a little about yourself?"

"Not really." Daryl answered. That was where he drew the line. Luckily, Mr. Greene took the hint and let that slide.

"Alright. Class, do you have any questions for Mr. Dixon?" A single boy raised his hand and was quickly acknowledged by the teacher.

"So, what's up with the _Deliverance_ getup?" At the question, several students in the class began to snicker.

"Fuck you!" Daryl hissed. Mr. Greene stepped in at that point.

"Enough! Daryl, I do not tolerate that kind of language in this classroom. Because it's your first day, I will let you off with a warning. As for you, Mr. Anderson, report to the office immediately."

"But-" the boy, Jack Anderson began. He was silenced by a look from the old man. Jack slowly got up and packed his things. Before he trudged out the door, he shot Daryl a look that could kill, if such things were possible. Daryl just smirked at the boy before going back to his seat.

"Alright class, please take out your literature books and turn to Don Miguel de Cervantes' _Don Quixote_."

~x~x~x~

Daryl's next class promised to be his favorite. It was Art with Mrs. Peletier. Daryl had always loved art. It took him away from his everyday life and allowed him to relax for a bit. As he entered the classroom, he lab table-like desks and easels. Once again, he chose the seat in the very back of the room. As soon as he sat, he heard a _thunk_ beside him and looked over. Great, it was that girl, Amy. She smiled at him, grabbing her supplies and putting them in front of her. Once again, the bell rang. A door off to the side opened and revealed, what appeared to be, an office. A gentle-looking woman with gray hair walked out and took her place behind a podium. When she spoke, her voice was soft and soothing.

"Class, today we have a new student. His name is Daryl Dixon. Now, please take out your supplies and drawings from yesterday. Amy, would you please explain yesterday's assignment to Daryl? Daryl, you can go ahead and start on the assignment and you'll have an extra day to complete it."

"So, yesterday, we were told we had to draw a portrait. It can be of anyone, we just have to work on proportions and shading. The paper and supplies are over in the corner. You can take them with you when you leave, if you want to. Just be sure to bring them back." With the assignment in his head, Daryl walked over to the table where the supplies were kept. This was going to be a problem. Sure, he was pretty good at portraits. The only problem was that, in order to create his best work, he had to be inspired. He had to have the perfect subject. Someone who could be his muse and allow him to create their perfect countenance. Right now, that wasn't looking so good. Daryl decided to sit and think for the remainder of the class. He would observe people for the rest of the day and see if anyone caught his attention. If they did, wonderful, if not, well, he could always draw his brother. When the bell rang to signal the end of the class, Daryl got up and left with those thoughts in his head. He paid closer attention to the people around him as he walked through the halls, looking for his muse.


	3. Chapter 3

After his Government class with Ms. Harrison, who turned out to be Amy's older sister, came lunch. For that, Daryl was glad. This gave him time to breathe, relax, and think about his art project. He still hadn't found the right subject for his portrait. Sitting down at an empty table in the corner of the lunchroom, Daryl pulled out his lunch bag. His father wouldn't allow him to buy a lunch so Daryl had to pack his own. This usually consisted of whatever he could scrounge up from the kitchen. Today, it was half a jelly sandwich, they had run out of peanut butter weeks ago, and a can of coke. It wasn't much, but, then again, he wasn't used to much. Daryl was lost in his thoughts as he munched on his sandwich and he nearly choked when he saw someone walk into the lunchroom. It was a man. A quite gorgeous man at that. Daryl had come to terms with the fact that he liked guys and not girls a couple of years ago. He hadn't told anyone and didn't plan to. That could lead to a fatal encounter with his homophobic father. Drawing his thoughts back to the man that was walking across the room, Daryl noticed his features. His hair was dark and he had a shadow of a beard. He was lean and Daryl could tell that there was hidden power underneath all those clothes. He was sitting so far away that he shouldn't be able to see the color of his eyes, but Daryl could make out the baby blue of the man's eyes. Daryl followed his movements as he sat down at one of the staff tables. He was a teacher?! He didn't seem the teacher type. Nonetheless, it looked like Daryl had found the subject for his portrait.

~x~x~x~

Walking into his next class which, according to his schedule, was Chemistry, Daryl found that the seats were already full. There were regular desks in the middle of the room and, currently empty, tables in the back that looked like they were reserved for labs. Having no place to sit for the moment, Daryl stood awkwardly by the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His anxiety flared as the students in the room kept looking at him and whispering to one another. After what felt like centuries, the teacher of the class swiftly walked into the room. Daryl felt his mouth drop open as he looked at the slightly flustered man. It was the guy from the cafeteria. A swell of excitement mixed with hesitation flooded through him at the sight of the man. The teacher cleared his throat and began to address the class.

"Alright guys, today we have a new student. I'm assuming that the young man attempting to melt into the corner over there is Daryl Dixon." he turned clear blue eyes onto Daryl, causing the boy have to fight to keep the red from his face. He just grunted slightly in confirmation of the teacher's assumption. "Daryl, I'm Mr. Grimes and I'll be your Chemistry teacher this year. If you would, grab your things and meet me in the classroom across the hall." Daryl nodded and, as he gathered his things from the floor, Mr. Grimes addressed the class. "Put everything away except your pens and pencils. Adrienne, would you pass out these tests? Now, I'll be across the hall, but that doesn't mean you can cheat. I'll be extra critical during grading and, if I find you have cheated on ANY question, you get an F." Mr. Grimes' words faded as Daryl entered the other classroom. There were only a few desks in this room and it was completely empty. He took a seat at one of the desks near the door and waited for the teacher. Mr. Grimes walked in, a dazzling smile on his face, and pulled a chair over to sit at the opposite side of Daryl's desk. He had a book and some papers that he set on the surface.

"Alright. First thing's first, how are you?" Daryl could feel warming comfort begin to set in. This close to the man in front of him, he could smell the spicy cologne he wore. That and the silky smooth voice together caused Daryl's hesitant anxiety to vanish and the corners of his mouth to slightly curve up in an almost smile.

"Fine." he answered.

"Hmm, not much of a talker, are you? That's alright. Talk as much or as little as you're comfortable with. As long as you do your work and get good grades, it doesn't matter. Now, this is the chemistry book you'll be using. Right now, we're working on chapter twelve. Here are some sheet explaining what we've done up until this point and the syllabus as well. Any questions?" Daryl looked down at the items on the desk and slowly shook his head. He looked at Mr. Grimes from under his lashes and was glad his head was down when he felt a warmth spread across his cheeks. "So, can you tell me a bit about the school you were at earlier this year?" Daryl raised his head and stared at the man for a moment. Something about this man made him _want_ to tell him whatever he wanted to know. That was a first for Daryl. He was so used to hiding _everything_ about himself.

"I didn't have Chemistry. I was in Physical Science." he began. Mr. Grimes nodded and 'ahh'ed thoughtfully.

"That happens with transfer students sometimes. Did you like you're old school?" Daryl shrugged.

"Didn't really care one way or the other."

"Okay. Did you have a lot of friends you had to leave behind?" When Daryl shook his head, his teacher's brow crinkled in concern. "Nobody?" he continued. When he received another shake, he let the subject drop for the moment and decided to keep an eye on his new student. "Well, I'm going to head back to class and make sure everyone's doing their work. You stay here and begin reading this stuff." Daryl nodded and watched as his new teacher left. It seemed that he found his new favorite subject.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Daryl. He couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Grimes. The drama came when Daryl went to his last class of the day. Phys Ed. Daryl hated PE classes, for obvious reasons. He was close to hyperventilating at the thought of changing in front of everyone. The bruises and nasty cut were sure to send the authorities after him. Back at his old school, he had managed to use a doctor's excuse, some shady deal his father had with a local doctor, but that hadn't worked at this school. At this school, PE was a requirement and no doctor's note was going to get him out of it. That wasn't the only problem with this class, though. The teacher, Mr. Walsh, was a royal douchebag. When his eyes initially landed on Daryl, he scoffed and glared.

"Alright, listen up. We've got a new student today." he said in a bored tone of voice. He gestured to Daryl. "This scrawny guy is Daryl Dixon. Now, go get changed. We're playing dodge-ball today." with that, he turned and walked off. Daryl walked into the locker room, shoulders slumped. Boy, was this class going to be _fun_... Finding the locker that was listed on his schedule, Daryl removed the gym clothes that had been put there for him and put his things inside it. Daryl faced the locker and huddled against it as he began to remove his clothes. The other boys in the room seemed too preoccupied with each other and Daryl became confident that no one would see his injuries. When Daryl was stripped and just about to put his gym shirt on, a warm, soft hand landed on his shoulder. Jumping, Daryl spun around and his gym shirt fell to the ground from numb hands.

~x~x~x~

Rick was cleaning up after his classes for the day. Last period was his planning period and he usually began the time cleaning up. After his main room was all tidy, Rick moved to his extra one. The one that he had put the new student in. That brought his mind to Daryl Dixon. The teen was mysterious, that was for sure. He hadn't spoken much and kept his head ducked, but Rick had been able to catch glimpses of those bright, blue eyes. Those eyes drew Rick in, made him want to know everything about their owner. There was such a deep sadness there and Rick wanted to find out what it was so he could fix it. He was brought from his musings when his foot hit something on the floor. Bending over, he picked it up. It was a sketchbook. Rick opened it to the first page and, in tiny print in the bottom corner, the name Daryl was written. Rick smiled. So, he liked to draw. Flipping through, the pages, Rick saw beautiful drawings and portraits of random things and people. They were amazing. Feeling an urge to see Daryl as soon as possible and give him back his sketchbook, Rick walked to the office to find out where the teen was now.

Finding out that Daryl was in Shane's class, Rick made his way there. He was slightly worried about the new kid. Shane was his best friend, but he wasn't exactly the nicest person on the planet. Rick was well aware that Shane could be abrasive and aggressive. If they hadn't been friends since they were kids, Rick didn't think they would even associate with each other as adults. Rick entered the gym and found Shane alone.

"Hey, where are the students?" Rick asked as the doors closed behind him. Shane turned and smiled.

"Changin'. Why? What'cha need?" he asked, walking over to his friend.

"I need to see Daryl Dixon."

"That waste of space get in trouble already?" Shane asked, laughing. Rick glared.

"Don't talk about students that way, Shane." he said sternly. Shane rolled his eyes and put his hands up in surrender.

"He's in the locker room." Rick nodded his thanks and headed back.

~x~x~x~

Daryl stood there, mouth gaping at Rick. Rick, for his part, looked completely shocked. His eyes ran up and down Daryl's torso, studying the injuries and bruises. The long cut is what had him the most worried. His senses coming back to him, Daryl leaned down and grabbed his shirt, shoving it over his head.

"What happened?!" Rick whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of the other students. Daryl only had to think for a moment before an excuse made it's way out of his mouth.

"I fell down the stairs. With a knife." he blurted. It sounded weak, even to his ears. He could see that his teacher didn't believe him.

"Nurse's office. Now." Rick hissed, quietly.


End file.
